


A Night to Remember

by dragonofdispair



Series: Unrelated Prompt Responses [56]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: ProwlxJazz Secret Santa Fic: Prowl does not need a date for tonight's Officer's Ball; his coworkers believe otherwise, and make arrangements.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ProwlxJazz Livejournal Community Secret Santa. The original prompt ([here](http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/974879.html?thread=4209695#t4209695)) was:
> 
> I'd love a pre-war first meeting or first romantic meeting ficlet where Prowl's colleagues set him up for an evening with Jazz. It can be either
> 
> 1\. A random blind date they somehow convince him to actually go on  
> 2\. An evening with an escort mech (and if so, please make sure that 'escort' isn't synonymous with 'prostitute.' Sex can happen if both parties are interested but it's not really part of the deal. It's meant to be friendly and entertaining company)  
> 3\. A case of P&J working together (full time or just occasionally) and their colleagues finally go "dammit, those two have been eyeing each other for forever, let's give them a push"
> 
> Or something else along the lines of 'P&J being set up by colleagues and instantly clicking'. Prowl is probably annoyed with his colleagues (the meddling glitches!) and possibly a bit embarrassed to begin with but ends up having a very pleasant date. I want fluff!

“I do not need a date for this event,” Prowl insisted, even as he allowed his coworkers and subordinates to drag him away from his desk.

Blockaide and Cloudjump exchanged a look. 

“You  _ definitely _ need a date,” Cloudjump said with a decisive flicker-flutter of his rotors. “You’re the future precinct captain! You can’t go to the Officers’ Ball unescorted. It’ll bring shame to the entire department.”

“Liar,” Prowl said evenly. “Thirty of the forty precinct captains in the last thousand vorns have gone to this event stag at least once. All of them have gone ‘escorted’ by one of their fellow officers at least once. There is absolutely no reason for myself to not to the same.”

“Too bad,” Blockaide said. “We’ve already got your date lined up. He’s waiting in the lobby.”

Prowl shook his coworkers off his arms with a glare at them.

He stalked into the lobby of the station. This was a satellite office, one without a jail attached, and not usually a crowded one at that. Most of the resident officers were patrollers. Some few detectives, like Prowl, who called it home, were the kind who only used their desks for paperwork. So it was easy to pick out the escort from those who had come to the station to file a report or complaint. 

Prowl’s spark stuttered to a stop for a moment. His “date” was the most gorgeous mech he’d ever seen!

Slightly shorter than Prowl, and lithe and graceful in a way that Prowl’s enforcer frame would  _ never _ be able to match, even if he reformatted into one of the new fast, agile motorcycles that were now being offered. His paint  _ gleamed. _ Obviously an expensive detailing. Maybe even a repaint, since it was hard for Prowl to imagine a professional had a color scheme so perfectly suited to compliment an enforcer’s black and white otherwise. Prowl was not slovenly, but he was suddenly keenly aware that he had not had a chance to go home for a shower and a polish as he had planned to before the ball tonight.

How the frag had Blockaide and Cloudjump managed to afford this!...him?…  _ whatever! _

The escort turned, caught sight of Prowl standing slightly in front of his two coworkers and strode over. He gave Prowl a sincerely happy smile and held out his hand. Utterly charmed, Prowl put his hand in the mech’s.

With a twinkle of half veiled optics behind his visor, the escort swept Prowls hand to his lips to give him a kiss across the back of his knuckles. “You must be Lieutenant Prowl,” he said. “I’m Jazz.”

Prowl almost didn’t notice the mech pinging him his credentials. He should open that file and review them. If he was going to have a professional for his date tonight, he wanted one he was sure could handle the event and help Prowl with the political maneuvering that would help him advance his position. He was, after all, one of a  _ handful _ of candidates for precinct captain, whatever Blockaide and Cloudjump said. But if he opened that file, and found those credentials lacking in any way, he’d have no logical alternative but to send Jazz away so the company would send another, more qualified, mech. Which meant Jazz would  _ leave. _

Prowl saved the file without looking at it. “Pleased to meet you,” he answered. It was one of the rote responses for introductions. Prowl wasn’t so socially awkward he couldn’t handle a simple introduction. 

Jazz’s smile widened. “Likewise.”

Prowl might  _ not _ be able to handle how Jazz’s smile made his knees go weak for an entire evening. Fortunately, he reasoned to himself, Jazz would be smiling at other people most of the night, chatting and mingling and  _ smiling, _ to impress the other attendants.

“I apologize for wasting your time,” Prowl said, continuing before the mech could think Prowl was refusing his services, “but I know that mechs in your profession do not enter personal residences, and I need to go home to clean up before the ball. I would be delighted if you were to accompany me to the event, however.”

“No waste,” Jazz said with a laugh. “Our first stop is to Zephyr's Parlor to get us both cleaned up, then a quick meal, before stepping into the limelight for the rest of the evening.”

“That’s very… generous,” Prowl said with a rude doorwing gesture to the two mechs still behind him, laughing quietly behind their hands. “In that case, I would be honored to be accompanied by you. Would you please lead the way? I’m not familiar with Zephyr’s.”

“Of course,” Jazz said, turning on one graceful heel-wheel, and (as Prowl had asked him to) led the way. He neglected to drop Prowl’s hand in the process though, so Prowl ended up being towed, somewhat dazed, in his wake. This was going to be the best night of Prowl’s life…

And the  _ worst. _

.

.

.

By the end of the evening, Prowl had decided Jazz was  _ perfect _ in every possible way and he really needed to ask the mech -- not the escort, the mech -- out for energon and gelled treats. Off the clock for both of them.

.

.

.

It took him three weeks to work up the courage to do so.


End file.
